Posy
by Suspicious Popsicle
Summary: That was all the postcard said, just: 'Hey.' No comma to pause and turn it into the introduction of a letter. No period to end the thought. It was nothing but an impulse. Flynn was surprised it had ever even been sent. Two part modern AU.
1. Posy

A/N: Based on a challenge game from tumblr, the picture that inspired this story is linked in my profile. It was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but the second chapter is sort of a follow up oneshot from an unrelated challenge.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from _Tales of Vesperia_ and do not belong to me.

* * *

Flynn hefted the scepter that was to be part of his Prince Crescendo costume. Estelle had just finished it, and it had turned out really well. Gently, he touched the surface of the large, blue gem on the end of it. That hadn't been there when last he'd seen her painting the dowel gold.

They were in her cosplay room. Estelle was sitting at her sewing table before the silent machine. Layers of fabric were bunched up in her lap being pinned together just so in preparation for when she'd stitch them together. Against the opposite wall were drawers full of odds and ends—pins, bobbins, ribbons, buttons, and a hundred other little components. One corner was devoted to clear plastic storage bins full of fabric. Normally, Estelle kept the room perfectly tidy. They were a little over a week out from a convention, however, and drawers stood open, chalk and pins littered the table, fabric spilled out of bins, and Flynn had spotted four pairs of scissors lying around since he'd come in.

On the plus side, things seemed to be going relatively smoothly. There'd only been three mad dashes to the craft store, and Estelle's wig had been easily located online, and successfully modified. She really was getting very good at what she did.

"How did you make the crystal?" Flynn asked her.

"Clear casting resin and dye. Judith gave me some tips."

"She's your cosplay friend? The one you met online?"

"Yes. She's taught me a lot. Without her, I couldn't have done half so well on my cosplays."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." He set the scepter down much more carefully than he probably needed to, but he'd learned his lesson about underestimating the fragility of props. "Do you need help with anything?"

"We'll need to do one last fitting for you soon, but I'm almost done. I'm so excited about next week! I finally get to meet Judith in person! Thank you again for going to the con with me."

"My pleasure."

He turned around to see where the cosplay he would be wearing hung from a little hook over the door. The detail Estelle had been able to recreate in it was amazing. It was hard to believe she'd done it all on her own.

"Where is Judith from, again?"

"She used to live near Mount Temza."

He nodded. That was clear across the country. It was no wonder Estelle was excited to get to meet her at this convention.

"Just recently, though, she moved to Dahngrest."

* * *

Flynn dropped into the driver's seat of his car, pulled the door shut, and slotted his key into the ignition. For a minute, he simply sat there, staring straight out the windshield without actually seeing the fluorescent-lit parking lot beyond. When he finally moved, it was to lunge suddenly to the side, yanking open his glove box and rifling around inside until he pulled out a postcard.

The photo on the front was of a rather unremarkable view down a deserted city street to where it spilled out onto a busy one. The only features of note were the brilliant but chipping layer of turquoise paint that coated the side of one brick building, and a pot trailing bright purple flowers off of a fire escape. Begonias, he thought idly, though he was fairly certain he wouldn't know a begonia from a carnation if asked. 'WELCOME TO DAHNGREST' was printed in the bottom right-hand corner of the postcard in a cheap, Word Art effect.

He studied the image. There were people passing by in the off-center intersection, but they were blurry and hard to distinguish. There was no one familiar. He'd checked.

He flipped the postcard over.

_Hey_

That was all it said, just: 'Hey.' No comma to pause and turn it into the introduction of a letter. No period to end the thought. It was nothing but an impulse. Flynn was surprised it had ever even been sent, but on the other half of the card was his address written in that same, familiar handwriting, and above that, a smudged stamp and the seal of the Dahngrest postal service. The message, if it was actually supposed to be one, had made it into the mail and been delivered to his door four years ago.

To be fair, the card's very existence was a message in and of itself, or it had been back then, back during all the confusion. It had been mostly _his_ confusion, he remembered, his worry, his anger. He'd been the one raising a fuss at the police station even though it hadn't been his place to do so.

'I'm alive,' the card had told him when it had arrived. That had been three days after Yuri's eighteenth birthday, and almost two months after he'd disappeared.

* * *

The convention was being held at a large hotel in downtown Dahngrest. Estelle had taken care of booking the room and pre-registration. Flynn drove. The two hour trip went by in no time.

In the city, Flynn scanned the crowds. It had become a habit whenever he came to Dahngrest. As they neared the downtown area, he saw increasing numbers of other people obviously in town for the convention: people with neon hair, Lolita dresses, and in full cosplay. There were familiar characters, but no familiar faces.

Gamers and anime fans were swarming about outside the hotel and in the lobby. Flynn stood guard over their luggage while Estelle got them checked in. Signs next to the elevator bay pointed the way to Registration. Tempting, but the suitcases and garment bags had to be put away first.

In their room, Flynn took longer than Estelle liked getting everything put away. He smiled as he carefully hung up the outfits she had made for them in the closet. Maybe they would change and go down as Prince Crescendo and Polka in a little while. At the moment, however, Estelle was practically bouncing in her eagerness to get registered and begin enjoying the convention.

Back down on the ground floor, they took their places in line along with people dressed in anything from t-shirts and jeans to ball gowns. Estelle watched the crowds, excitedly pointing out cosplayers. Final Fantasy, Mario, Metal Gear, Street Fighter, Team Fortress, Mortal Kombat—representatives from dozens of games and franchises filled the hall in the form of cosplayers.

Flynn watched them go by, quietly impressed by some of the craftsmanship and surprised to see a few characters from old or niche titles wander past. Though he cosplayed mostly for Estelle's sake, he couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. However, the main draw of the convention for him would be the game and dealers' rooms. He was making up a list of titles to look for when Estelle pointed out someone from the crowd.

"There's Judith!"

She was easy enough to pick out. She and Estelle had both agreed to create Eternal Sonata cosplays. Judith had to be the girl dressed as Viola. Even from halfway down the hall, Flynn could see that she had an eye for detail. She'd need it to manage any of the characters from the game, really. He'd heard that some of the more talented cosplayers could sometimes be elitist, but Estelle had only ever spoken well of Judith, and Flynn was glad of it. As she made her way towards them, having spotted Estelle waving, Flynn caught sight of the person following her and went still.

A young man his own age shadowed Judith. He was dressed as Jazz, all browns and cream, a simpler costume compared to the others, and he was watching the crowds to either side of him with interest. His black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He'd grown it out. His eyes would be gray, Flynn knew.

As they came within earshot, Estelle grabbed Flynn's arm. "She's got a Jazz with her!"

The sound of his character's name caught his attention, and he finally looked right at them. The grin that had been spreading across his face winked out, erased, as if he needed to build the smile that replaced it from scratch. It was a shallow mask, but an opaque one. He looked Flynn right in the eye.

"Hey," Yuri said.

* * *

Yuri hadn't quite been eighteen when he'd disappeared during the summer before their senior year in high school. Once he'd realized that Yuri was gone, Flynn had been frantic. He hadn't believed at first that Yuri had run away. He'd left behind his phone and his wallet. His foster father had claimed that nothing else was missing, either, not that the old drunk would have known even if he'd actually looked. He'd only filed a missing persons report because Flynn had kept after him to do so, and even then, Flynn had had to continuously keep after the police to be sure they were following up. Yuri hadn't exactly been a stranger down at the precinct.

Nothing had ever turned up and, on the day of Yuri's eighteenth birthday, he had been declared legally an adult and the case had been set aside. Nothing Flynn had said had changed their minds.

Then, three days after that, he'd received that postcard from Yuri, an awkward greeting with no return address. He'd waited for Yuri to contact him again, but there'd been no further word. Finally, one Sunday late that autumn, Flynn had gotten sick of waiting. He'd driven to Dahngrest and searched its streets for the turquoise building and the purple begonias. Eventually, he'd found a souvenir shop that sold the postcards. No one in the store remembered Yuri, but they'd told Flynn how to find the street in the picture. He'd gone there wondering if the postcard was a clue, some stupid game Yuri had been playing. He'd been furious and so anxious that he'd felt sick to his stomach.

He had found the street. The turquoise building had been repainted in a color that was a little too pink to be terra cotta, and there had been no sign of the begonias. Flynn had spoken with the office staff of the apartments pictured, he'd checked the tenant directories next to the doors. No one had recognized his description of Yuri. None of the names had been his. There hadn't even been a set of matching initials. If Yuri had been sending Flynn a clue, either it had been too vague, or Flynn had waited too long to follow it.

* * *

People did not make way for Flynn as he strode down the hall. At least they weren't asking for pictures anymore, though. His wrath might have its limits, but it was of some use. He tightened his grip on the scepter, wanting to hit something with it. Hit some_one_. Yuri. He wanted to hit Yuri with it, wanted to beat the hell out of him.

Currently, Yuri was following along behind him. He wasn't saying anything, but Flynn knew he was there. He kept catching glimpses while turning corners. It was an aggravation that was quickly approaching infuriating.

Numb didn't really describe how he'd felt during that first meeting in the registration line. It was almost the opposite of what he'd gone through. Everything from back then—his friendship with Yuri, the shock of his sudden disappearance, the anger, the _fear_, the years of worrying and wondering—all of it had come back to him all at once. He hadn't known what to feel, hadn't been able to express anything past the crush of memory and emotion. He'd just stood there, blankly, while Judith had introduced Yuri.

Estelle had recognized the name, of course. There had been an awkward moment where Judith had realized that something was up and no one had known quite what to say. Luckily, she and Yuri had been called away to be photographed, and Estelle had promised to get in touch with her a little later. With that, they'd gone their separate ways.

Immediately after registering, Flynn and Estelle had gone back up to their room. It had been a strategic retreat. He'd needed to regroup.

Estelle had been apologetic. She'd had no idea that Judith even _knew_ Yuri, much less that he would be attending with her. She had asked if Flynn was all right. Something about his answer must have confirmed for her that there wasn't going to be a joyful reunion. She'd told him that he didn't have to cosplay with them. She'd said that if he didn't feel like staying the weekend anymore that she wouldn't mind if he went home and just came back to pick her up on Sunday. She'd even offered to pay for the extra gas.

He'd told her that he didn't mind staying, she'd worked so hard on the costumes, after all, and besides, he'd gotten over all of that long ago.

She hadn't quite believed him, but she hadn't argued. She'd just taken her costume, wig, and makeup bag into the bathroom to get changed as Flynn had pulled his outfit out of the closet.

Every time he had put on the costume before, he had felt a little thrill of excitement at becoming a character from one of his favorite games. He hadn't felt that when he'd changed then. Prince Crescendo wasn't strong enough to overcome the emotions and memories that were steadily eating away at his protective barrier of shock.

They'd gone back down to the convention floor and found Judith and Yuri surrounded by a small crowd of photographers. As they'd joined in and posed for pictures, Flynn had kept sneaking glances at him. He saw the familiar old grin that promised mischief, the smile that dismissed the unimportant. Yuri posed with his sword, feet apart, leaning forward as if prepared to lunge, and Flynn saw him five years ago during a game of flag football in gym class. Yuri licked his lips, and Flynn remembered him sitting in a booth at a restaurant and gesturing with his spoon as he talked, a parfait on the table in front of him. When he looked down to adjust his gloves, Flynn saw him bent over a book. He turned away, and Flynn saw him asleep on the couch in the Scifo living room. All those fragments of memories came back, but he couldn't picture Yuri the way he'd last seen him four years ago. Had he missed something? Should he have known what was about to happen?

As soon as he was able to break away from the group, he had. The girls hadn't even noticed. Yuri had, of course, but Flynn hadn't expected that Yuri would come after him.

They hit a relatively empty expanse of hallway and Flynn stepped off to the side and turned to face him.

"Why are you following me?"

"Because you're walking in front of me."

"Is that it? Then please, be my guest." He waved Yuri on in the direction he'd been heading, intending at that point to simply turn around and go back to his room.

Yuri shrugged. "This is where I was headed."

They stood in a bend in the hallway empty of panel rooms or even booths. Flynn snorted.

"I forgot what a pain you are to deal with. I didn't miss that." Lie. Once he'd realized that Yuri was gone, he'd missed everything.

"So then there were other things about me that you _did_ miss?"

"Leave me alone, Yuri. As I recall, you're actually pretty good at that."

As he turned to go, Yuri grabbed his wrist. Rounding on him, fist already raised because he'd been looking for any excuse, Flynn was caught off-guard by a shriek.

"Oh my _God_! You guys are, like, my OTP!"

A girl had come around the corner and was beaming at them, a camera clutched at the ready. He felt Yuri's grip loosen.

"OTP?" Yuri asked.

"Lemmie get a picture! Jazz, can you, like, kiss his hand?"

"Oh." There was a sudden understanding in the sound, and Yuri smirked. "Gotcha."

Turning his smirk onto Flynn, he knelt with a mocking 'Your Highness,' and kissed the knuckles of Flynn's hand. The girl actually squeaked just before the camera flashed. Flynn could feel his face heating up, and it only worsened as Yuri raised his gaze to meet Flynn's eyes without taking his lips from where they were pressed against the glove.

Flynn tried to yank his hand back, shoved Yuri hard enough to knock him to the floor when he wouldn't let go, and fled.

* * *

How many times had he been back to Dahngrest since that first trip? How many days had he wasted driving around the city, passing the streets in the photograph two, three times a trip? How much hope had he burned away? How many chances had he given Yuri to come out of hiding?

How many hours had he spent wondering what could have driven Yuri to disappear the way he had? What could have been so bad that he hadn't even been able to tell Flynn about it? They'd been best friends. Yuri had been….

Flynn sat in his car in the hotel parking garage, staring at the postcard. It was a reminder of a huge failure, maybe a collection of many small failures on his part. What hadn't he noticed? Why hadn't he been someone Yuri could turn to? Even with those questions hovering around it, surrounding the absence in his life the postcard highlighted, it was still the last, tenuous link between them. Yuri had left everything behind when he'd come to Dahngrest, but he'd kept Flynn's address. So why had he never said anything?

Someone knocked on the passenger side window. He didn't even need to look to know it was Yuri. The doors were already locked, but he hit the button anyway, just to make a point. He heard Yuri try the handle.

"Come on, Flynn. Open the door."

His voice was muffled, but easily understandable. Flynn didn't answer him.

"I know you've got a thing or two to say to me."

When he still got no response, he started to turn away. That was when Flynn threw the postcard onto the empty passenger seat.

"Explain that," Flynn demanded.

"You gonna let me in?" When it became obvious that the answer was no, he sighed. "I didn't know what to write."

Typical Yuri answer. The bulky cosplay slowed Flynn down as he struggled to get out of the car. Yuri watched him as he came around the front, stripping off his gloves. He threw a punch as soon as he was in range, and, although Yuri tried to block, he was too slow. He hit the pavement and Flynn loomed over him.

"Don't give me that! What about where you were staying? What about why you left?"

Yuri swept his feet out from under him. "Not really something I could commit to paper."

Flynn picked himself up, watching as Yuri did the same. "You could have told me before you left! You could have come back or called! You could have done _something_!"

"You wanna talk about this, or do you wanna fight? 'Cause right now—"

An access door opened, and a group of people spilled out into the garage, chatting. Flynn straightened up and fixed his cosplay. He took a deep breath. He'd needed the distraction.

Yuri was straightening his outfit. His mouth was twisted in distaste. This had to be uncomfortable for him, too. He could have just lost himself in the convention, but he'd sought Flynn out. He had to have known forgiveness wouldn't just be handed to him.

"Why did you disappear?" Flynn asked quietly. "I was…. I thought your foster father might have—"

"Mind if we leave the heavy stuff for later? It's been a while, right? I know a place nearby that makes great parfaits. They even offer discounts to cosplayers."

He cocked his head to the side, smiling wryly, and, once again, Flynn felt like he was suddenly back in high school. He wondered how much had really changed over the years.

"I haven't forgiven you."

"I know." Shrugging, he looked away. "I wasn't asking you to. Just figured it'd be easier to catch up over dessert."

Flynn watched him for a long moment before finally tearing his eyes away and gesturing to the car. "Get in. You're treating."

They got into the car and buckled up. Yuri stared out the window as Flynn drove them out to the street.

"Hey," Yuri said. "I missed you."


	2. Memento

A/N: The second part of the story, although I'd never intended to write it until I got sent an unrelated challenge and the picture clicked into place. There's a link to it in my profile.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from _Tales of Vesperia_ and do not belong to me.

* * *

They couldn't have been much more than eleven or twelve in the photograph. Flynn wasn't sure exactly how many years ago it had been taken. He remembered the old fleece blanket they'd wrapped themselves in and the watery, box mix cocoa they'd been drinking because those things had always been present in his home. It was his father who had taken the picture. They'd been watching him hang Christmas lights on the house, and he'd paused partway down the ladder to snap the photo. Flynn couldn't remember much about that particular day, and he never would have expected to see the photograph turn up the way it had.

Yuri fixed him with an even stare from across the table. "Can I have my wallet back?"

Shocked by his discovery, Flynn nearly handed it over before he remembered why he'd snatched it out of Yuri's hands in the first place. He jerked back at the last second, the wallet still safe in his grasp, and pulled out Yuri's ID. There, next to his picture, was his address.

"Is this current?"

"Yeah. You know, if you wanted my address, you could've just asked."

Flynn pulled out his phone and paused. He'd been afraid that Yuri might refuse to tell him. He was still afraid that he might have been lying just then, or preparing to move. He had the fleeting suspicion that it was odd to be so concerned about making sure he had Yuri's address when Yuri had made it perfectly clear for four years that he wasn't interested in being contacted. It was only a moment's hesitation, however. He pulled up the screen to enter a new contact.

"What's your number?"

Yuri rattled it off automatically and Flynn programmed it in along with the address. "You want my email, too?" He didn't wait for an answer, and Flynn typed it in almost despite himself. As soon as it was saved, he called the number Yuri had given him.

"What, you don't trust me?" He pulled out his phone and looked at the screen.

"Program it in."

"Still bossy." His phone emitted soft beeps as he saved the number. "I tried calling you a couple years back—"

"Don't." He held up a hand between them. "Don't even try to act like it isn't one hundred percent your fault that we lost touch."

"I wasn't trying to. I just…." He shrugged. "So, what have you been up to?"

Flynn barely kept from slamming his hands down on the table. He settled instead for flinging Yuri's wallet back at him. It was infuriating the way Yuri took it in stride, but his calm gave Flynn a chance to pull himself together.

Apparently, the reason Yuri had taken out his wallet in the first place was for a frequent customer card. Flynn stared at it as Yuri set it down and slid it to the edge of the table for the waitress when she brought their orders. It was punched almost all the way across, earning him a free dessert. Flynn looked around the café with renewed interest, wondering about this place where Yuri was a regular. Had he ever driven past it while Yuri had been inside? Could they have been that close and only just missed each other?

Sitting there, across from Yuri in a café only one of them was familiar with, Flynn felt suddenly like he'd been superimposed on a world where he didn't belong. Yuri had cut him neatly out of his life four years ago. He'd left a void in Flynn's world back home, a sucking whirlpool that Flynn had been circling for ages. It had been difficult to navigate those years without Yuri. Flynn had always thought that they'd go to college together, that he'd have more time, but then all of a sudden, he'd been left with nothing but that inexplicable, omnipresent absence.

"I guess your temper hasn't improved all that much, either." Yuri was grinning as he spoke.

"As if you have any room to talk to me about that."

"Hey, I'm not the one who started a fight with the captain of the football team."

"He threw the first punch! I keep telling you—!"

Reality asserted itself. This wasn't The Comet Diner they'd used to stop in at after school. For just a moment, the old argument had made Flynn feel like he'd been back in high school. He watched Yuri's grin lose some of its shine.

"Just because I forgot for a second doesn't mean you're forgiven."

"You don't need to keep reminding me."

It was Yuri's turn to be angry now, though he kept a lid on his temper as the waitress arrived. Flynn looked at their orders, him with a roast beef sandwich and Yuri with a strawberry parfait. How could things be so much the same after four years?

"Why did you disappear?"

"Can't I just be happy to see you for a few minutes before we get into all of that?" He had the gall to actually sound annoyed, and it snapped the last threads holding on to Flynn's temper.

"If you'd wanted to see me, you could've come back at any time over the past four years. If you missed me so much, you could have _at least_ written me a letter. You could have let me know that you were okay! So, no, Yuri. You don't get to be happy right now. You get to tell me exactly why you left, or you get to call yourself a cab after I leave you here."

"Good thing I've got plenty of cash." He scooped up a spoonful of his parfait, avoiding Flynn's stare as he ate.

Grabbing the gloves he'd set aside on the table, Flynn stood up. He fumbled to find his wallet in one of the hidden pockets of his costume and threw down a few bills to pay for his uneaten food. He didn't want anything from Yuri.

As he walked out of the café, he realized what a stupid thought that had been. Really, there were a lot of things he wanted from Yuri, things he thought he'd given up on years ago. It wasn't that he _didn't_ want anything from him, just that he knew he wasn't going to get what he wanted.

* * *

"You're hogging the blanket!"

"I am not! Quit yanking it!"

"You're gonna make me spill my hot chocolate!"

"Not if you would quit hogging the blanket!"

"Boys!" The voice of Flynn's father rolled through the open window like a cheerful peal of thunder. "Come help me plug in the lights!"

The window was open, letting all the light out of the house. It spilled across the snow-covered front yard, turning the drifts a dull, pale yellow. Beyond the reach of the light from the house, the snow banks glittered under the blue light of the stars.

The lights had to be plugged into the wall socket, but Flynn couldn't see the end of the cord. "There's no plug," he called.

"I need help to plug in the lights!"

Flynn leaned out the window, but there was only darkness above. He couldn't see his father. "I can't find the plug!"

It wasn't hanging down from outside, it wasn't to either side of the window. It was nowhere to be found. He urged Yuri to help him find it, but when he looked over, the blanket next to him was empty. Frantically, he looked around, trying not to spill the two enormous mugs of cocoa he held. All of the light inside was pouring out through the open window, making it hard to see.

"Dad, Yuri's gone!"

"Help me plug in the lights!"

"_Dad_!"

His mother's disembodied voice came to him from the kitchen. "Drink your cocoa."

"I can't find Yuri!"

"I need you to plug in the lights!"

"You need to drink the cocoa I made you."

But Yuri was gone, and how was he supposed to drink his cocoa when there was nobody to hold the other mug?

* * *

The alarm on Estelle's phone woke Flynn up. Groaning, he rolled over and buried his face in the hotel pillows, trying to remember what day it was. Saturday. They wouldn't be leaving Dahngrest until tomorrow afternoon.

He felt Estelle touch his shoulder.

"I'm sorry to wake you. I have a photo shoot with Judith this morning. I'll try to be quick getting ready, and then you can go back to sleep."

It was a nice thought, but Flynn could tell that he wasn't going to be able to fall asleep again. Not after yesterday. Not now that he knew Yuri was down there somewhere, going about his new life. Well, not really _new_, but new to Flynn. Yuri had blinked himself out of existence for four years, turned himself into little more than memories and a postcard that made no sense. It was hard to imagine what he'd been doing for all that time. Where had he lived? How had he supported himself? What sorts of friends had he made? Was his past as big a mystery to them as his present was to Flynn? Was he in school? Did he attend conventions often? Could he have been in the background of some of the cosplay photos Estelle had shown him over the years?

There were four years of Yuri's life that Flynn knew absolutely nothing about, even though they'd been best friends practically since the day they'd met. It didn't feel real.

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and pulled up Yuri's contact information—phone number, email, street address. He should've taken a picture to go with it all. Actual proof that he'd actually been there.

After Estelle left, Flynn showered and dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans. He spent some time wandering slowly though the convention halls, scanning the crowds and alternating between asking himself a thousand questions that he couldn't answer and trying not to think about it at all. As he walked, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his hand from straying to the phone in his pocket. He checked the settings a dozen times to be sure the volume was turned up as loud as it would go so that he wouldn't miss a call due to the noise of the crowds. Every so often, he checked for missed calls anyway, hating himself a little and wondering why he'd even dared to think that something might have changed. He was only fooling himself by thinking there was a chance that Yuri might contact him before he broke down and called first.

When he got hungry around lunchtime, he found his way back to the little café where Yuri was a regular, not sure what he was expecting. The food was good, though he probably wouldn't have appreciated it yesterday if he had stayed. He sat at his table for more than two hours. Yuri never showed up, but then, he didn't have any reason to.

Finally, he got fed up with himself for moping over the past when the past clearly didn't care about him. He returned to the convention, determined to enjoy himself for the rest of the afternoon. The gaming rooms kept him occupied for a few hours watching tournaments or playing against other attendees when his turn came around. For a while, he actually forgot about Yuri and had some fun.

When he finally left, he found that he'd had no signal inside and had therefore missed two calls and a text message from Estelle—invitations to dinner. Yuri would be there. She'd made sure to let him know, promise and warning rolled into one, but he'd missed them when they left for the restaurant. He had a moment of sick uncertainty that passed when he remembered that Yuri had his number. If he'd wanted Flynn to come, he could have called.

He ate dinner alone in the hotel bar and passed the time watching cosplayers until Estelle, Judith, and Yuri returned.

Flynn hadn't actually been sure what he was going to do the next time he saw Yuri. He deserved answers—needed them—now that he knew Yuri was all right, but…he was afraid of what answers he might receive. He'd had suspicions, but nothing more, and Yuri had never given him anything more than accidental hints. The Yuri he'd known wasn't the type to run away from anything, and Flynn feared finding out what had been bad enough to make him vanish. He _had_ to hear it from Yuri, though. If they were ever going to speak again, if he wasn't willing to let Yuri go, he had to know why Yuri had left him.

Yuri spotted him almost immediately and came straight over. His hair was loose, framing his face. It had grown so long.

"Can we talk?"

Flynn nodded, stood up, led the way to the elevators. His phone alerted him to a text message from Estelle, telling him to call if he needed her. When he looked back, he could see her across the lobby, watching them pensively.

They rode the crowded elevator in silence and Flynn led them down the hall to his room. When he let them in, Yuri brushed past without looking at him. He strode across the room and came to a stop at the foot of the far bed, staring around at a hotel room indistinguishable from any other. Watching him shift his weight and try to find someplace to rest his gaze, Flynn made an allowance for his unease and gave him time to find where to begin as he stood between Yuri and the door. Things between them would be decided upon what was or was not said that evening.

"I don't know how to start," Yuri complained. "If it wasn't you, I wouldn't even be trying."

"Just tell me why."

"That's not an easy question to answer, Flynn. It's part of the reason I left." He scuffed his boots against the carpet. "Did they give the man who fostered me any other kids after I took off? I made some calls to tell them not to, but…."

"I don't know. Once you were gone…once they stopped the investigation, I didn't…." He hadn't kept up the phone calls and the visits. They had barely been enough to convince that man to report Yuri missing before he'd been declared an adult. After the police closed the investigation, it had just seemed pointless. Seeing Yuri's expression now, Flynn felt ill. Had that been another mistake on his part? He took a step forward, reaching out.

"Yuri—"

"He was abusive." Although his voice was calm, Yuri kept fidgeting, kept crossing his arms over his chest, and he was being very careful not to look at Flynn. "It had been going on for a while."

"What did he—?"

"_Don't_—" He held up a warning hand between them. "—ask for details. You don't want to hear them." He took a deep breath. "Yesterday you wanted to know why I didn't let you know I was okay. I guess…I didn't want to lie to you. It fucked me up pretty bad, Flynn."

He wanted to reach out, wanted to reassure Yuri somehow, wanted to hit something. There was something thick and strange between them, though, and he kept a few steps' distance.

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you go to the police?"

His lips twisted in an awful smirk. "I did. They told me that, if I didn't want to get in trouble for filing a false report, I'd better go on home and thank that man for fostering an ungrateful brat like myself."

"They—!" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. His nails cut into his palms, but he kept himself from lashing out and punching the wall or something equally unhelpful. "Who said that to you?" he demanded. "Which one was it?"

For the first time since he'd returned to the hotel, Yuri looked directly at him. Surprise had wiped away that terrible smirk, and it was followed quickly by a cautious smile and a short, shaky laugh. "So much for the thin, blue line," he said.

"Just because my father was a police officer—" Flynn broke off as a thought occurred to him with shocking clarity. "You didn't think I'd believe you. Is that why you never told me? Is that why you left?"

The smile was gone in an instant, and Yuri turned away again. "No. I knew you'd believe me. That was part of the problem." He sighed and reached up to rub the back of his neck, hiding most of his face. "I didn't leave because of him, exactly. I'd mostly worked out ways to avoid that. I left because I would have murdered him if I'd stayed."

"That's—"

"He was worse when he was drunk, but he always passed out after. The last time it happened, I went into the kitchen and got a knife. I had it against his throat. It would have been easy. Just one, quick slash. Right before I did it, I remember thinking that the cops would care about that, for sure. Then…I thought about you. I saw myself the way you would. I didn't…. I couldn't stand the thought of you seeing me like that, not if there was any other way I could save myself. So, I left. That night. I just…ran. If I had stayed, I'd have killed him the next time he so much as looked at me.

"I made it to Dahngrest. I was sure for a long time that he would come after me. I still carry a knife on me all the time."

He moved, and the blade was suddenly in his hand, sharp and bright. The motion had been so quick that it was clear it had been well practiced. Yuri hid the knife away and shrugged.

"I got a job, found a place, made some friends. I'll tell you about that, too, if you want, but I think we've covered the important stuff."

"Yuri…."

Flynn reached out through the uncertainty and the bad memories and the four long years between them to grab Yuri's hand and pull him into a hug. He felt Yuri's whole body tense up, felt him force himself to relax, and then, slowly, Yuri reached up to clutch fistfuls of Flynn's shirt. As Flynn held him, fingers tangled in long, black hair, all he could say was: "I'm sorry," but all that kept running through his mind was: _Why didn't you tell me?_

* * *

It took them a while to let go and calm down. Yuri's eyes were red-rimmed when Flynn finally let him pull away, but neither of them said anything. They wound up sitting on the floor between the beds, shoulder to shoulder, leaning back against the mattresses. They set aside the four years' differences and went back to high school and before. They argued over old rivalries and reminded each other of funny stories and pleasant memories. At some point, Flynn realized that he had taken hold of Yuri's hand. He was loath to let go once he'd noticed. He didn't want to let Yuri out of his sight for fear that he would disappear again.

Eventually, their reminiscing was interrupted by a text from Estelle. Flynn pulled out his phone and read over it quickly.

"Time for me to go?"

"No. She was just letting me know that she'll be spending the night at Judith's apartment."

"I can leave."

"You don't have to."

"Look, I don't want to get in the way of you and your girlfriend." As he tried to get up, Flynn tightened his hold on Yuri's hand.

"Estelle and I aren't dating. I guess…I never really got over you."

He felt the little shock of surprise that traveled through Yuri and offered a wry smile. He hadn't meant to talk about this, but he was tired and relieved and remorseful. He was willing to talk about anything that might keep Yuri from leaving, even for only a few more moments.

"I was going to ask you to prom. That was how I'd planned to tell you. I didn't think…. I didn't know how important it was not to put it off."

Nervously, Yuri looked from him to the door. "I should get going."

"Please, Yuri. Tomorrow's the last day of the convention. All I'm asking is that you stay. Take Estelle's bed. I'll sleep in mine. Just…just don't go."

"I thought you hadn't forgiven me."

"I have." At some point, he had done so without realizing it. Possibly at the moment he'd taken Yuri's hand in his. "Please."

"Let go of my hand."

Immediately, Flynn did as he said, though the loss filled him with trepidation, particularly as Yuri started for the door. He scrambled to his feet.

"Yuri!"

He stepped into the bathroom, though, not out into the hall, and shut the door behind himself. His voice came through slightly muffled.

"I can't be anything more than a friend to you, and we saw how well that worked out."

"I'm all right with friends, so don't even try to use that as an excuse." He could live with never being anything more than friends if it just meant having Yuri back in his life. He rested his forehead against the door. "I really won't forgive you if you disappear again."

"…Find me something to sleep in," he ordered. "I know you've got a spare. You always pack too much for trips."

Relieved, Flynn went and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. He laid them out on Estelle's bed, trying to ignore the way his eyes had begun to sting.

* * *

Sunday passed in a blur. Yuri and Judith hung out in the room while Flynn and Estelle packed up their things to get ready for check out. They cosplayed as a group again, and Flynn felt the usual excitement of being someone else for a short while. Yuri was just as handsome as Jazz as he had been in his borrowed pajamas but, much more importantly, he was at his ease. He wore an undying grin, teased Estelle, and picked stupid fights with Flynn. Although things had changed between them, for the rest of that afternoon it was as if no time at all had passed since the summer before their senior year of high school.

When the convention ended, they all met up at a nearby restaurant for an early dinner. As much as he enjoyed himself, Flynn was acutely aware of the time that was rushing steadily away. Eventually, they had no more excuses to linger and were forced to say goodbye. As he drove off, Flynn watched Yuri in the rearview mirror until he was no longer in sight.

Not five minutes down the road, his phone went off, indicating a new text message. He waited until he came to a stoplight before pulling it out. The photo he'd taken of Yuri as Jazz filled the screen.

|gimmie a call nxt time ur in dg ill loan u my couch 4 the wknd|

He smiled. Yuri had contacted him first, after all.


End file.
